Analysis of Spillage, save for Me

It happens she’s old
And in her dotage.
She has aches and pain.

And as she tumbles
Over and over down
Her road through smooth
Then rough patches,
Glimpses of herself
She catches
When in her heyday.
Tries to hang on
To hold fast
To something, anything
From her past.
No use, she realizes.
Screams for help,
“May Day, May Day”
A feeble utterance.

Life is on the wane.
There is no one there.
No one hears her.